


The Ship

by Bolt_DMC



Category: Bolt (2008)
Genre: Art, F/M, Movie Reference, Music, Post-Canon, Shipping, Soulmates, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-09-30 15:10:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20449148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bolt_DMC/pseuds/Bolt_DMC
Summary: Bolt and Mittens have been the closest of friends for a long time now. But what if they discover they’re becoming a little more than just friends? Can they get past the species difference and form such an unorthodox pairing? Maybe with a little help from Penny and Rhino, they can. Primary cultural references include songs by Marshall Crenshaw, as well as Art Nouveau posters, the TV show "The Nanny," and the movie "When Harry Met Sally."





	The Ship

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: August 2010.
> 
> For my parents.

1.

Mittens loved listening to music, and her latest discovery was the first two albums by Marshall Crenshaw, his self-titled initial release and its follow-up "Field Day." They were easily his best efforts, chock-full of impeccably crafted tunes that show influence far older than their early ‘80s release dates. Their roots go all the way back to rockabilly, doo-wop, and blues while still maintaining a uniquely individual and compelling voice. She had found them in Penny’s CD collection, a by-product of the girl's short-lived romance with an eccentric fellow who fancied himself a budding retro indie-pop star. He was fortunately gone (none of Penny’s pets had liked him very much), but his impact on the girl’s musical taste had been profound -- persuading her to drop an earlier infatuation with boy bands and Britney Spears in favor of slightly older but far sturdier stuff by Elvis Costello, Nick Lowe, Robyn Hitchcock, R.E.M., The Replacements, Hüsker Dü, and more. A welcome swap-out, the cat thought, with this being a prime example.

"Whenever You’re On My Mind" urgently coursed through the speakers, but it just left Mittens restless right now. In fact, she had been feeling this way for several weeks; an odd sensation had been gnawing in her chest and stomach, like a hungry mouse in a pantry full of cereal boxes. And it happened most often when she was around Bolt lately.

"Nah, it couldn’t be," the cat said to no one in particular. "The whole idea is insane. Absurd. Absolutely, positively absurd!" She drummed her paw tips nervously on the floor. "Wags is a… a dog, for heaven’s sake_._" Sure, he'd been on her mind a lot, but he was her confidant, her sturdy rock, and her best friend. Mittens felt safe around him; he had such a good heart. Could it really be more than friendship she wanted from him now? What more could a girl want than a close friend in whom she could trust? What more, indeed?

She recalled her silly little kitten's observation -- gosh, had it been six years ago now? -- that she'd never, ever have one of those dopey, stinky wagtails as her friend. Never mind as her lover. Had she actually been such a conceited smart-aleck back then? Right now, Mittens just wanted to eat those words with a side of sauerkraut and a hot sauce chaser, the better to make them disappear.

The memory of last year's wedding then teased its way around her thoughts, swirling and dipping like bodies on a dance floor. The alcohol had drawn her to the dance, but the pooch was why she'd stayed. There had been something magical about it all, each anticipating and responding to the other's moves as if they'd been dancing all their lives. It just felt… right_._ As she remembered each bump and grind, the mouse in her chest kicked it up a notch.

What more could she want, indeed!

Mittens switched off the music and looked out the window. The sunflower field the cat saw was in full late summer bloom, bright yellow heads swaying rhythmically in the breeze. And the plants’ leaves were fully formed, creating a thick lustrous undergrowth that seemed inviting.

She decided to go and look for Bolt.

2.

The dog was on the porch, amusing himself by batting a red rubber ball back and forth when Mittens found him.

"Uh, hey Bolt," she said tentatively. Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. "Got a sec’, pal? Let's talk about something, all right?"

"Sure, always got time for you," the little shepherd replied. "Always. What's up?"

Mittens sat across from him and looked searchingly into his brown eyes. "How long have we known each other, anyway?"

"I guess it's been getting on about two years now," the dog reflected. "Yeah, that seems about right. Been through a lot together, haven't we? And as they say, time flies when you're having fun."

"True," she responded, not quite sure how to begin. "It's kind of interesting. Been having these… these unusual thoughts lately. Um -- I don't know. It's like I'm… I’m seeing you in a different way, somehow. Like maybe… well, like maybe more than just as friends? It's kind of caught me by surprise, and -- and I wanted to… to tell you. Has anything like that ever crossed your mind about me?"

Bolt became quiet and pensive. This was really unexpected. "I -- you know -- I -- never thought about that… that possibility before," he stammered, suddenly feeling all confused and tongue-tied. "Though I have to say, it's… it’s something I'd like to consider, now that you’ve brought it up."

"Oh," the cat chuckled nervously. "Didn't want to, you know, put you on the spot or anything. So this… so this is something you want to think about more? Because I want to as well, don't worry. It's quite a lot on my plate, too."

The dog nodded. "That sounds… that sounds like a great idea. Let's spend a little time apart looking at this, okay?"

"Okay," said Mittens. "How about we talk again, oh, say, two days from now?"

"Yeah -- yeah. That seems about right. Four o'clock good for you?" the shepherd asked.

Mittens felt slightly more at ease now, enough to crack a joke. She mimed thumbing through an imaginary datebook. "I think I can fit you in between my 3 PM nap and my 5 PM yarn ball wrestle," she grinned. "Till then?"

"Till then," Bolt concurred with a smile.

3.

"Boy, talk about out of the blue," said the dog to himself after Mittens left. He knew he wasn't always terribly well attuned to the thoughts of others, but that was a pretty big thing to miss. It also seemed likely that the cat had been carrying this around with her for a while. Seeing her all flustered like that was unusual, and her vulnerability struck him as sweet and endearing. It brought out the pooch’s protective instincts, in fact.

"Me and Mittens. Huh," he mused while cocking his head. "It's kind of like if Penny were in love with a polar bear or something. Odd, maybe. But you don't always pick the things you love. Sometimes, they pick you, and you just have to trust that it's right. Feelings are funny things, but they don't usually lie, either. Not if you’re honest with yourself."

And then he remembered the time several months ago when he had had his only love affair, with that beagle at the neighbor's farm. Bolt winced and grumbled, "Boy, did I ever make a fool of myself over her. Ended up running after her to the city, got into a horrible dogfight, wound up in a full body cast, and needed a couple months of physical healing and a couple months more of emotional healing to get over it. Brrrrrr!" He shivered just recalling it. "I’m lucky things didn't end up worse than they did. Worst of all, I wasn't thinking about anybody but myself. It's like I totally forgot about everyone else who cared about me."

"But," he continued, "That was more a blind and sudden infatuation than a deep love. This is a lot like that friendship-catching-fire kind of thing from ‘When Harry Met Sally’. It seems entirely different. I mean, it's not as if I don’t know a lot about Mittens already. Wow, do I ever have a lot to think about here."

Bolt wished he could chat with someone about all this, but he remembered that he was supposed to go to the library with Penny after school that afternoon. "I wonder," he said. "Maybe I can get her to talk about this to me. She’s a smart kid, and she’s really good at figuring out what's on my mind. I'll just have to find a way to clue her in somehow. Now, let's see… "

4.

Penny and Bolt entered the town's small local library. The girl had a school report due on an American history subject of her choice, and she had selected the Battle of Gettysburg and Lincoln's famous speech afterwards. The topic had seemed like fun at the time, but required more research than expected -- and she hoped to get additional background here. The dog often accompanied her to look at art books on excursions like this. His usual behavior involved going into the stacks and putting a paw on the desired tome, which Penny would take off the shelf for him and lay flat on a table, leaving the little shepherd to flip through pages and enjoy after putting his special color glasses on him.

Bolt was still trying to figure out a way to alert the girl to his new-found dilemma with Mittens. Then he remembered -- of course! That big book of Art Nouveau posters. It just might work.

Penny pulled what he wanted from the shelf and opened it for him. "Let me grab a couple things for myself and get your color glasses," she said, heading back towards the stacks. The dog quickly turned the pages until he found it, a justifiably famous poster by one Theophile Alexandre Steinlen. On the right in eccentric lettering were the words "Tournee du Chat Noir de Rodolphe Salis," and sitting to the left was a chic black cat. Her hair was mussed but stylishly so, and the face exuded confidence mixed with a bit of disdain, even defiance.

Bolt dashed over to the girl, who was carrying an armload of books. He tugged at Penny’s pant leg and barked, urgently trying to get her to look at the picture.

"Easy, boy, easy!" she laughed. "What's got you so excited?" The little shepherd ran over and stood on the chair, placing a paw next to the image of the cat. He did his best to muster a look that mixed questioning and concern.

"Oh look, Bolty. I agree, that's a really nice picture you’ve found. Funny, it kinda… " Her voice trailed off as she saw the dog’s expression. "It… kinda reminds me of Mittens, doesn't it. You too, huh?"

The pooch whimpered, dropped his ears, and put forth his best puppy-dog eyes.

"What’s with him?" Penny wondered while eyeing him quizzically. "He looks just like my biology lab partner did when she got that major crush on the lead trumpet player in marching band."

Penny soothingly stroked Bolt’s head. "Hey, hey -- what’s the matter, big guy? Do you wish Mittens were here, too?" she asked. The shepherd nodded and then, much to the girl’s surprise, gave the picture of the cat a big, sloppy lick.

"Bolt!" she whispered, fully aghast. She picked up the book and frantically wiped the page dry with her sleeve. "You can’t just go around slobbering all over the books, or they’re gonna kick us both outta here! If you wanna kiss the cat, you can always wait until we get -- um… um… oh!" Penny let out a long breath as realization began to materialize, and she said a second time more softly, "Ohhhhh."

"Something's really eating you about her, isn't it?" she finally said. "I’ll bet I can guess what it is." And that’s when it finally hit her.

"I've noticed something with you two for a while now. You've been spending lots more time with each other lately, almost like you guys have a secret together. And the way you curl up next to each other when you sleep at night. I think I know what's going on."

Bolt’s face and posture brightened noticeably. She'd figured it out. Penny tousled his head sweetly.

"You know, my mom told me the other day that you guys remind her of an old married couple. Yeah, I can see that," she laughed. "Two old shoes that complement each other perfectly. Well, I'll tell you -- my track record with boys hasn't been very good since we moved here. Been kissing my share of dumb losers lately. Not sure how much useful advice I can give you."

The girl thought a couple minutes more before continuing. "Mom says I'll find somebody someday. The right somebody. And I'm sure that’s true. But I'll bet opportunities like that don't come around very often, and something tells me I'll know when one does. Think about it, Bolt. Maybe it wasn't quite what you expected, y’know, falling for a cat. But if it's right -- well, how can you argue with that? I guess you just have to see what your heart tells you. Whatever it says, it'll be okay."

The pooch whined and buried his head into Penny’s leg. She giggled. "Oh, don't worry about me. You’ll always be my good boy, and I can't imagine loving you less. But this is something entirely different, and if I care about you, I can make room for you to love her, too. Not a problem."

She put the color glasses on the now-calmer looking shepherd. "Now c’mon, you big silly. I've got studying to do. You go and enjoy your poster book. Oh, and look for the Toulouse-Lautrec ones -- they're really good."

5.

Meanwhile, Mittens was feeling an overwhelming need to talk to someone about all this herself. Her options were limited though -- Rhino was it. And while he usually had his priorities straight despite a sometimes breathtaking inability to distinguish fantasy from reality, he occasionally missed the mark. Or put another way, while the hamster was often full of horse manure, there was normally a pony buried underneath there somewhere. Well, most of the time, at least.

"Hey there, rodent," she called out to Rhino, who was engrossed in something with car crashes on the TV. "Listen, can I tear you away from your show for a minute?"

He switched the tube off. "Sure," he said cheerfully while exiting his plastic ball. "Seen that one before anyway. Dish to me, sister."

"Um -- well, y’know," Mittens hesitatingly began, "I’ve been kinda, sorta having these feelings… "

Rhino flashed an impish look at the cat. He knew right away what was coming. "Feelings?" he said in a devastatingly accurate impression of Daniel Davis in English accent mode, "Uh, what feelings are those now, hmmm?"

Mittens grabbed the back of her neck with reluctance. "Oh, heh -- you know… "

"Uh, no I surely don't know, madam," was the reply. He edged closer to the cat.

"Well, I… " Mittens tried again.

"But I'm sure you'll feel a whole lot happier if you just say it, madam."

The cat stopped talking abruptly. "Aw, c’mon, Rhino, quit going all Niles-the-Butler on me. I'm trying to confess something here."

"And doing a mighty poor job of it, I must say!" said the hamster back in his normal voice. "Look, I think I know what this is. You’ve fallen for Bolt, haven't you."

"Yeah -- yeah, you're right," she finally admitted.

"Not surprised, mind you. I’ve binge-watched every episode of ‘Cheers’, ‘Friends’, ‘The Nanny’, and ‘Futurama’ -- and I recognize all the signs. I’d have to be blind not to notice, you know," said Rhino triumphantly.

"But this is pretty risky, really," offered Mittens a little nervously. "Wags and I have been friends for a long time now. We care a lot about each other, and are so comfortable together. What if something goes wrong? What if things change between us?"

"Mittens, this can easily be solved by applying those three little words… "

"I love you? Aw c’mon, really?"

"No -- YOU'RE OVERTHINKING THIS!" he shouted impatiently and with emphasis.

The two friends sat silently for a minute. Then the hamster began again. "Hey, sorry I yelled at you. Just got a little frustrated is all. But look, Mittens, newsflash time -- things have already changed. Friendships sometimes turn into something else. And you can't push the crabgrass back into the ground. Sure, you're taking a chance -- but you know as well as I do that some of the best things in life are risky. Did you talk with Bolt about this yet?"

"Yeah, kind of. He seemed surprised. It was a little unnerving," said the cat.

Rhino laughed. "Oh, you know Bolt. Nicest dog on the planet, but sometimes a little dense and clueless about stuff. Wouldn't surprise me if he'd be the last one to realize how he felt."

Mittens nodded and grinned.

"He probably just needs a little time to come to terms with it and sort things out," the little rodent continued. "I’ll bet this threw him for a loop. But I've got a sneaking feeling he's on board with the idea. He's been going on a lot of long, thoughtful walks lately, and I've seen him listening to those Marshall Crenshaw discs in the next room while you are. Big, dopey smile on his face, too."

He paused and thought a minute. "You came to me for a little advice, right? Okay here's what I think, my kitty-cat friend. Go for it. Love -- the real thing -- is pretty darned rare. And if you let it wither on the branch, you'll regret it forever. You do love him, don’t you?"

"Yeah, I do," Mittens replied.

"You know, I gave Bolt a pep talk kinda like this once. And I'll do it for you, too. All righty now -- who’s going to tell Bolt she loves him?" asked the hamster.

"Me," said the cat with just a tinge of uncertainty in her voice.

"WHO?" shouted Rhino more urgently.

"ME!" Mittens replied with much more confidence. She got a goofy grin on her face and said, "Y’know, you should be coaching football, Knute Rockne. A motivator of cats, that’s what you are."

Rhino jumped up and down with glee and clapped his front paws together. "I wish you two lovebirds all the happiness in the world."

The cat laughed. "You’re a real pal. Seriously. I appreciate it. Thanks!" She picked him up and gave him a big fat hug.

"A pleasure," said the hamster through a face full of cat chest hair. "Go get ‘em, tiger!"

Mittens placed Rhino in front of the television set and padded away, feeling energized. It might explode in her face, but she had to put everything out there to Bolt. She owed it herself -- and him.

"Wow," thought the cat. "The little rodent sure had one huge pony hidden under all that manure."

6.

The cat’s Marshall Crenshaw fascination continued on the appointed day. Wafting from the speakers was the songwriter’s cover of the Jive Five ‘50s-style single "What Time Is It?" And it was the perfect justification for presenting someone else's song your own way -- a real improvement on the original, intense and passionate yet warm and sweet, without a hint of guile or irony. The singer here eagerly counts down the hours one by one until he takes his baby in his arms and tells her how much he cares.

It was too much right now for Mittens, though. She snapped the CD player off at "seven o’clock" and went to the window. Bolt would be by soon at their agreed-upon time, and he was never late. Prided himself on it, in fact. "Not nice to keep somebody waiting," he said to her once. She looked out the window and saw the dog. He was ignoring his rubber ball and other toys, sitting stone still with an earnest look on his face and intently thinking about something. Then, true to form, he stood up and trotted towards the house right before the hour.

The two sat facing each other. "Hey, Bolty," said the cat.

"Hey," replied the little shepherd.

"Okay, I'm going to trust Rhino on this," Mittens thought. Then she started in, "Wags, I've been looking at this from every angle. And I'm gonna give it to you straight. No games, no baloney." She paused, a tear trickling down her cheek. "I -- I love you, Bolt. I do. There's no denying it, no getting past it. You mean the world to me."

"Please," she thought in addition. "I care so much. Please don't hurt me. I don't know if I can take it."

In hindsight, Mittens remembered the dog’s reaction as a big white blur. Bolt’s eyes opened like two oversized oysters, and a smile as big as the Pacific Ocean cracked his face. He leaped in the air and barked excitedly. He ran in circles five times like a puppy chasing its tail. He stopped and made a beeline for the cat, nearly knocking her off her feet in the process. And he wrapped his front legs around Mittens with the biggest hug he could manage.

The cat couldn't help laughing, partly from happiness, partly from relief. "So… I take it that's a yes?" she quipped.

"Oh, Mittens. Of course it’s a yes," he replied. "I’ve been so afraid of what you might finally decide. Gotta say, it took guts to lay yourself out to me first. But it really helped, and I admire you for it. Yes -- yes -- I love you, too. More than I can say."

They remained in a warm embrace for some time.

"Let's head outside," said the dog finally. He shot Mittens a look. "Might be fun to explore the sunflower field. Nice, cool, and secluded on a hot day like this. If you get my drift."

"Great minds think alike," she grinned. "C’mon, let's go."

Once outside, Bolt said, "Hey, you know how you told me you get tunes stuck in your head a lot? Actually, there's a Marshall Crenshaw melody in mine right now."

"Which one?" the cat asked.

"’Cynical Girl’," he laughed. It really was the perfect song, too, and Mittens knew it. The starry-eyed singer fervently hopes to find his soulmate -- though she's got to be worldly, jaded, and sardonic. But the buoyant melody, ringing arrangement, and sparkling chord changes ground everything in friendly optimism. Arguably, it's Crenshaw's finest selection.

"Havin’ some fun, kid?" chuckled Mittens.

"Lost in love, don’tcha know," was the quietly earnest reply. "You?"

"Oh sure, lots of great choices make sense. But right now it's ‘Brand New Lover’.”

The dog smiled warmly. "I'll take it. Isn't any other cure, right?"

They walked along leaning into each other shoulder to shoulder. Bolt tried doing a criss-cross leg walk Monkees-style with Mittens, though it wasn't far along that they got tangled up, falling and rolling over on top of each other with a hearty laugh.

"Okay, Mickey Dolenz, enough dallying. Race you to the sunflowers!" said the cat.

She dashed into the floral undergrowth with Bolt right behind her.


End file.
